One Day in the Desert
by JakobiFlyingFox
Summary: Jake and Rango are thrown into a deadly game of guess-who when the Grim Reaper himself is ambushed by a bunch of rowdies with orders from a mysterious employer who wants the rattler dead once and for all. Warning: OCs Alert, as well as some language and graphic content, but not much Enjoy the product of my latest obsession XDD
1. Chapter 1

Rattlesnake Jake was alert and wide awake, though you wouldn't have known that if you'd seen him: his fiery eyes were closed as if in slumber and his muscular coils were, well, coiled like he was still dreaming. But this rattler was listening. Listening intently for a follow-up to a sound he had heard not too long ago. A gun shot.

Most likely it was one of those Dirt inhabitants come out for a pot-shot at roadrunners, or maybe as a warning to some outlaw gunslingers like himself. Or maybe it was Rango, Dirt's chameleon sheriff, just shooting at something in the distance. He usually did that. Jake allowed himself a half smile as he mused. Rango, the outsider who became a local hero and legend; he was a cocky one all right - thought he was a right charmer, but still somewhat lil-livered, especially if he knew he was in over his head, which was quite often. However, he had proved himself to the small desert town of Mud, as well as to Jake himself, that he could be quite valiant. Rango, in one of his delusions, had stated that he and Jake were 'brothers', but that was before he met the fearsome rattler and had the showdown in town. Jake called him that whenever he passed by, as a tease or threat, depending on how he felt towards the chameleon.

Jake's thoughts snapped back to the present as he heard another shot. This time it sounded closer. The shooter was approaching his burrow's general direction and he didn't like it. Even if the shooter went by and paid the rattler no mind, Jake didn't take kindly to the interruption of his "siesta". The rattler frowned and tensed as he opened a fiery eye; an eye that reflected a portal to the very underworld. It was rumored that anyone who stared directly into those eyes of his would burst into flames on the spot. Jake found this thought rather amusing but knew it wasn't true; if it was, he'd have killed a lot of people by now, just by one glance. But still, it was a handy reputation.

He heard something other than a gunshot: it was a rhythmic sound, like running feet. _What is it, now?_ Jake opened his other eye and tasted the air with his forked, black tongue. _Roadrunners… figgers._ He snorted and shut his eyes again. Not one moment later, they were flicked open and he tasted the air again. He frowned as more scents registered.

_Ferret… toads… rats… what in hellfire gives?_ Jake shifted his coils around and cocked his gun, just in case. The last thing he wanted was to be interrupted now when he was about to take a nap. The rattler waited and, in between intervals of tongue-flicking and listening, was able to pick out whoops and loud cries. _Thrill-seekers're more like it,_ Jake thought. He waited, gradually distinguishing at least five shapes on the horizon from under the brim of his black hat: one in the lead, slapping the haunches of his roadrunner, encouraging it to go faster. It had a long, lean body. The two shapes behind it were short and stocky and the two behind them were stouter than they but nearly as big as the lead figure. Jake waited, feeling a sort of ruthless curiosity towards these loud newcomers.

Presently, the five halted their runners just downwind of where Jake lay. Two toads, two rats and the leader looked to be a big ferret. He was a long, lean fellow with a worn, wide-brimmed brown hat set slightly askew on his head. He had a tattered old overcoat on and clutched a long, fancy-looking machete in his paws. He sniffed the air. Jake made sure to stay hidden and half-closed his eyes, making no sound at all, listening.

"'Kay, do I have to go over this again?" the ferret whispered loudly to his comrades. He sounded younger - well, younger than Jake expected - had to be in his prime, but no older. "First, we sniff this Reaper out, and then if no one's offed, we take him out. Simple as that!"

Jake almost laughed out loud. _Those crazy hats are here to ambush me, the Grim Reaper of the West!_ He stifled his mirth a he watched the scene unfold. They were all pretty rough-looking; the two rats had ammo straps wound bandolier-style across their torsos. They carried some serious-looking firearms. The two toads had a couple throwing knives and a gun apiece. The main ferret's knife, however, looked to be as long as his forearm.

Jake sized up his enemies. _Ferret's gotta be the first to go; knock out the leader and those other four'll scatter like roaches in the light._ Jake thought with mild disgust. _Here I was lookin' forward to takin' the day off, and then come these jokers. _He continued to wait as the five ascended to where his burrow was, pointing their weapons at anything that moved. Jake wanted to laugh at them, these five little bitty critters thought they could take down the great legend himself?

Jake went over his plan in his head again as the creatures got closer and closer. Finally, one of the toads peeked into his burrow and squinted in the dim light. Jake's eyes were closed under his hat brim but he heard everything going on.

"I think I see 'im!" the toad whispered excitedly. He was met by a swift clout to the head by the ferret who hissed.

"Shh-ut it, ya moron!" Well, so much for being 'shut up'. The ferret glanced inside the cave and licked his lips. He didn't relish this idea in the slightest, but motioned his gang to back up. "I'm goin' in, get ready."

_Come and get it, little man,_ Jake was tickled pink. He tasted the air with his tongue, sensing the ferret's tentative approach. He had to admit the ferret was quite soft-pawed. If he hadn't smelled him, the snake doubted he would have noticed the mustelid's presence at all. Rattlesnake Jake could afford to be generous now. _Closer and closer…_

* * *

**I'm on a Rango streak, so sue me XP**


	2. Chapter 2

"You lookin' fer me?" Jake lifted his head, rising up out of the relative darkness of his burrow like some horrible apparition. Rattling his Gatling-gun tail, Jake slithered forwards. "You and yer boys might wanna be a little quieter there; I heard you before I even saw or smelled you,"

The ferret's big eyes widened in shock as he jumped back, away from the huge snake. Jake slithered forward a little more. "Uhh…" the ferret swallowed loudly, clearly panicking. "Um, uh… boys! We're, uh, g-get ready, will ya!"

Jake sneered. "Welcome to the lair of the devil himself, ferret. Yer right on time, too - this Reaper's itchin' fer a soul, and five's a pretty good bargain." Rattlesnake Jake opened his mouth in a false smile to reveal his hypodermic fangs.

The ferret practically sprinted back to the relative safety of his group, who stared up at the big snake, probably thinking they'd bitten off more than they could chew, but the rats and toads snapped into action at a sharp hiss from their leader - none the better for shock himself. Jake chuckled at this sorry mess of organized assassination. "So this is it? Well, guess it's true ya can't get good help these days."

The ferret smirked - a smirk Jake decided he didn't like; it was obnoxiously snooty. "So sorry we couldn'ta run yer approval over, firsthand!" he flipped his knife in the air, catching the handle smartly. "But ya know what they say, rattlers ain't got hands!"

Jake's tongue flicked out and he smiled wickedly. "You gonna talk my ear off, 'r are you actually gonna go an' get yer money's worth o' trouble?" He tilted his head to the side. "Unless... yer havin' second thoughts,"

The ferret's nostrils flared. "No one. Calls me. Yeller." He clutched his knife even tighter and without another word, he sprang forward. Now this took Jake by surprise, but he didn't earn such a fearsome reputation by just standing idly by. He reared up, swinging his deadly tailgun around and fired off two shots: one hit the ferret, the other missed by a mite.

The ferret sank like a one-winged hawk and collapsed onto the hard rocky ground. He lay completely still. Jake bared his poisonous fangs, slightly annoyed at himself. _Damned critter went too fast, better ease up_. The rattler was totally for the intention of toying with these sideshow attractions.

With some altogether not-so-nice words, the toads hopped up next, ready to avenge their leader. The ugly critters fired off a round from their pistols. Jake, with his long sinuous body, easily dodged the bullets as he twisted and turned. He cackled in the silence that followed. "That all you got?" He fired off a round of his own, his deep-throated bellow chased after the toads as they scrambled for cover behind their roadrunners. That left the rats. The rough-looking rodents bared their yellowed teeth same way as Jake.

"Ya bringin' it 'r what?" Jake hissed. They did.

The rats split apart instantaneously, to surround the rattler from either side. Inwardly, Jake was pleased to see that this was taking a turn for the better. "That's it, keep it interestin' boys. This was gettin' a mite tedious." He snickered, pretending to yawn. The rats vaulted themselves into the air, guns aimed at Jake's head. Nimbly, the rattler ducked, twisted around, and brought his Gatling tail-gun up and around, smacking into both the rodent's heads. He laughed at the resounding _clunks_ that followed._  
_

Jake coiled up, rattling his gun and flicking his tongue out in delicious triumph. "Now that was fun an' all," he said in a mildly disappointed tone. "But next time y'all feel the need to tangle with the Reaper, go an'-!" Before he could finish, Jake felt claws digging into his scales and whipped his head back around to see that the apparently-resurrected ferret had hopped up onto him and had poised his knife, preparing to plunge it into the rattler's body!

Jake angrily slammed his body onto the ground, momentarily knocking the ferret off his back. Jake slithered up to the fallen leader - now seeing that the supposed mortal wound was nothing more than a graze of the side. He hissed and shoved the tip of his gun into the ferret's chest, eyes blazing as he coiled around him. "Now that was pretty stupid, friend. But I'm feelin' kinda merciful today, so maybe if you tell me who y'all are, I might reconsider actin' the Reaper!"

The ferret grunted stubbornly. Jake bared his fangs and demanded in a louder voice, "I suggest y'all take into consideration the deal I just made! I don't often make exceptions like this, so take the advantage, ferret!" He shoved his nose up into the ferret's face and his fiery eyes narrowed into bright red slits.

The ferret grit his teeth. "Fine, we were hired by-"

Jake knocked the ferret's hat off with his nose in one, quick upward jerk of his head. "Nuh-uh," he glowered. "Start with yer name!"

"Chip," the ferret snarled. "I'm the leader of the Outland Boys,"

Jake's eyebrows rose in some sort of recognition, or it could have been amusement. "I've heard of you. Real tough, yer supposed to be. What happened? Y'all have an off-day?" the rattler chuckled viciously. "Now, tell me, who hired you to take me out?" And who thought they would have succeeded?

There was no doubt the ferret was terrified, but he was also stubborn, and it was with immense distaste that he replied. "Some lizard,"

Jake flinched, startled by this remark. _Rango wants me dead?_ Sure, Jake imagined the chameleon wasn't all too happy with the snake coming around every so often, but was he really the one who ordered this... or was this the work of someone else? "Describe yer boss to me!" Jake demanded in the same loud voice.

The ferret looked confused. "Why? D'yer know him?" Chip winced as his sore shoulder was squeezed against the tightening coils.

"_I'm_ askin' the questions here, ferret!" the rattler growled. "Now answer me!"

The longer Chip stared into those eyes, the more nervous he got. He quickly searched for something to appease the angry rattler. "He's... tall, an' Mexican, I th-think."

Jake eased up on the ferret, frowning down at the quivering little figure under his nose. "Listen up, you worthless piece of fur," he snarled, his coils loosened. "If I ever, and I mean _ever_ catch one _whiff_ of you or yer pathetic little band in my territory again I'll be takin' yer souls down to the deepest blackest p-!" Jake was interrupted by a bullet whistling by his head. He let go of Chip and turned to face the toads and rats all aiming their weapons at him. He glanced back down at Chip who had a smug look on his face as he drew his knife. "You sure about who's going down to the black pit, Mister? Seems yer a little outnumbered. _Charge!_"

* * *

**Le gasp! :O**


	3. Chapter 3

Jake was caught by complete surprise at the gang's redirection; weren't the toads a ways off already - scared full away - and weren't the rats out cold just a second ago? And now here they were, seemingly renewed with the thought of bloodspill. Jake hissed in irritation but before he react, Chip gave a flying leap towards the rattler, and with an relatively elegant downward sweep, plunged his machete deep into the rattler's back.

Jake's roar of pain was deafening, and any thoughts Chip had of this mission being easy-peasy were dashed to pieces as he very nearly was by the thrashing rattler. Chip managed to hold on though, a likely candidate for memory-loss on so wild a ride. Jake's struggles ceased to a neauseating halt as all at once, he heard guns cocking. He whirled around on his attackers, practically foaming at the mouth. All four of the varmints had their weapons aimed right at him. Their hurts seemingly nonexistent, and heir yees filled with gleeful malice.

Dazed - for lack of a better word - Chip released his grip on the machete and sank to the ground, minding his shoulder. "Give a nice 'how do ye do' to Satan for me, will ya?" he hopped out of range. "Fire!"

Guns blazing, Rattlesnake Jake found that he was now a moving target. His initial attempt to slither back into his burrow for safety was rendered useless as several fiery holes etched their way into his scaly hide. Two throwing knives embedded themselves into the side of his neck, narrowly missing the jugular. Eyes burning with rage, Jake turned to his tormentors and and bellowed. "Y'all asked fer it, now!" He lashed out at them, fangs bared, prepared to end their miserable lives once and for all, but he received a jarring kick to the side of the head by the ferret instead.

Jake went down, wincing. Not that he would ever admit this aloud, the Grim Reaper was impressed. Seemed that this lowlife band of vagrants really did get the drop on him, but he cancelled those thoughts before further evaluation when five shadows stood over him. he was surrounded, and weakened by the prior bloodloss. His hellish eyes widened as the shout pounded into his eardrums. Then came the stabs of metal into scaly flesh, the gunshots assaulting his hide, the smell of blood was unmistakable.

Jake's thrashing body slowed in its violent struggles, and his fiery eyes squeezed shut as the onslaught continued. He suddenly realized what seemed to be totally impossible - the Grim Reaper was going to die; be sent down to that Black Pit he reserved only for his victims, now there was a space reserved for him down there.

All at once, the violence ceased - the blows stopped, and there was silence. Jake didn't dare open his eyes. He was still alive, his lungs still gasped for air, but there was no real way that he still had the strength to open his eyes.

"Ya think he's dead?" One of the voices sneered.

Chip's voice replied; the ferret was panting. "You wanna check, you be my guest," his laugh was husky, and maybe a tad shaken. "An-anyway, if he is, he ain't goin' nowhere like that. Hawks'll finish 'im off."

The voices were farther away now, and whatever they were discussing went with them. "...you think...paid... lizard?"

Within moments, Jake was left alone, a long, bleeding lump on the dry desert soil. As if struck by a thought, Jake inhaled, coughed, and then his eyelids flew open. Without even looking back, he knew the damage was extensive. And he also knew he needed help, but the only help...

The rattler glared, though the motion hurt him. He slowly raised his head, pain bombarding his senses. He managed to raise himself up partially; he didn't want to look at himself, so he kept his eyes fixated ahead. It was still early out. He'd make it in time, and besides, he figured Rango'd be tickled to hear about this.

* * *

That evening, Beans burst into Rango's office, all in a fret. The little lady iguana panted out, "Sheriff, we've got a problem in the saloon!"

Rango mumbled. "Oh, good, I'll take mine regular…" he was just about to settle for a nice snore or two when Beans stomped up and gave him a rough push that sent him sprawling on the floor. "Ow! What gives?" Rango rubbed his head. "Can't the law get any sleep around here?"

"You've done nothin' _but_ sleep nthese past few days!" Beans retorted. "But now there's trouble, in the saloon! Ambrose and Buford are at it again, and Spoons and Waffles are like to rip each other's throats out!"

This time, Rango leapt up, grabbing his gun and belt and ran out the door, with a pleased Beans following. The saloon was a mess! Ambrose and Buford were practically shouting at the top of their lungs to be heard over the confusion and on the other side of the bar, Spoons and Waffles were already drawing weapons: Spoons his spoons, and Waffles a smashed bottle. The horned toad and wizened old mouse were squared off and were glaring at each other like they were preparing to wring each other's necks.

Rango pulled his gun and fired a shot. All activity ceased. "All right!" He began strongly, blowing off the smoke from his firearm and flipping it back into its holster - his favorite bit. "Now I was stirred from the deepest regions of my slumber just now, 'cuz a little voice was tuggin' at my ear._Well__!_ I sat up, feelin' somethin' was gone awry, and now here I am!"

Beans, waiting outside, rolled her eyes.

"Now, will y'all kindly explain what brought this abrupt altercation?"

In the silence that followed, Buford cleared his throat. "This here dirty liar owes me for four nights' drinkin' and he won't pay up!" he pointed an accusing webbed digit towards Ambrose.

The little owl bristled. "I say! Sherrif, this unruly crook has overpriced me! I _paid_ already, but now he dares make such an accusation!"

Rango stepped in before things got anymore heated. "Now y'all settle on down, there! May I take a looksee at the accounts?" He snatched the small book Buford handed him away, and then started thumbing through the pages with obvious theatrics, until he cleared his throat. "T'would seem I ain't got the eye for accounts!" He tossed the book back and Buford opened it, circling around to the right page.

"Aha!" Rango pounced. "The evidence is drawn!" He glanced over Buford's shoulder. "What's it say?" He whispered.

Buford frowned."I can't understand it,"

Rango raised a brow. Well, if Buford couldn't even understand it, this case was a total flop. But the toad replaced the book, and begrudgingly muttered. "Mighty sorry there, Ambrose, seems it slipped my mind."

Ambrose the owl was nothing if not chivalrous. "Think nothing of it, my good man, and if you please, forgive my poor choice of words from before."

Well, now that that was over with, Rango turned his attention over to Spoons and Waffles who had ceased their standoff and were now at a standstill, and an awkward one at that.

"Might I inquire?" Rango asked, gingerly. He'd barely uttered the words when they started back up again.

Spoons blurted in his high, wheedling voice, "It's _his_ fault, Sheriff! This no-good excuse fer a toad here insulted me!"

Waffles flushed and shot back, "That's _lizard_ to you! I'm a _lizard!_ And I didn't, Sheriff, this old geezer's lyin'!"

"No, I ain't!" Spoons cried angrily.

"Are too!" Waffles said just as angrily.

Rango broke in. "Why don't we take this from the top? Play the tape again?"

Before either creature could speak, little Priscilla appeared, Rango's eyes-and-ears around the town and assistant deputy to Wounded Bird, Rango's trusty aide. The little aye-aye came scurrying, her braids a-flutter, and breathless as she sputtered with excitement. "Sheriff, Rattlesnake Jake's a-comin'!"

* * *

**Phew! Long chapter, lots of goings-on!**

**GAAAAAAHHH! CONFLICT! :3**


	4. Chapter 4

All noise ceased in the saloon with that one sentence. Rango was worried. "Are you sure, Little Sister? You aren't pullin' my leg?" This was asked a little hopefully. He didn't want to have to deal with Rattlesnake Jake right at this moment. Most likely the rattler wanted to cause trouble and Rango had enough conflict to solve right now. After all, his monologue had been interrupted!

But Priscilla nodded, causing her long black hair to bounce and her hat to wobble atop her head. "Nossir, I seen him with my own eyes. Wounded Bird saw him, too!"

Rango sighed again. "Well, no sense in delayin' the inevitable." He walked out after Priscilla, resignedly. Beans followed.

Rango, Beans, Priscilla joined Wounded Bird at the head of the town, watching the distant slithering shape of Rattlesnake Jake become more and more distinguishable. Rango tensed and Beans grasped his arm for comfort. The chameleon squinted into the dusky distance. Something didn't seem right with Jake. Instead of smoothly sliding across the ground, the rattler went haltingly, like he was slithering through broken glass and didn't want to get pricked.

Wounded Bird, beside him, sniffed the air. "I smell blood," he said in his low tone.

"Most likely." The chameleon remarked, flatly. "Beans, Deputy, you stay back here. Little Sister, you stay too. I'm goin' out to meet him." Rango strode smartly out over the town's border, maybe six or so feet from where Beans, Priscilla, and Bird waited.

As Jake neared, Rango saw the rattler was covered in blood. And not only that, but his halted slithering was now more like a hesitant jerking motion forward, like he was inaccurately rowing a canoe. Rango caught the sound of heavy panting and the stench of blood nearly overwhelmed him. The chameleon was dumbfounded. What had happened to Jake?

At last, Rattlesnake Jake stopped in front of Rango, his head lowered, gasping for breath and his body heaving. Rango stared at the rattler, surprise written all over his face.

"Uhh…" the chameleon hesitated, for once unsure of what to say. He could see now that Jake had been shot, and shot numerous times. It was a wonder he still lived.

Jake lifted his head, his burning eyes stared down at Rango, but there was no hostility there. Instead, those wicked eyes that had always successfully filtered out all emotion were now filled with agonizing pain. "Hello, 'brother'," The snake's wicked sense of humor obviously hadn't been injured along with him.

"Hi... Jake," Rango replied, still somewhat at a loss. Jake coughed and shivered, even though the heat of the day was only just dropping.

"How ya been... keepin'?" Jake's voice was hollow.

"Uh, better than you, fer sure," Rango surprised himself by feeling concerned.

Jake's chortle fell short and he hacked up blood. "Everyone's doin' better than me right now." He wobbled in his unsteady stance.

"Yeah, what - uhh, what happened there, Jake?" Rango wasn't sure what his next action should be. He couldn't very likely give Jake a helping hand - the snake'd crush him!

Beans, meanwhile, watched along the sidelines. "Oh my," she put both hands over her mouth in shock. Wounded Bird was also surprised, though his stoic, stone-like face hardly ever showed emotion. Priscilla's wise eyes were already wide enough so that she didn't need to show astonishment.

Rattlesnake Jake wobbled again. "Seems as though someone's got a bone to... pick with me." He panted. "Some hired scum pulled a fast one over on me back that way." Despite the foul taste on his tongue by admitting said 'scum', he nodded in the direction of his burrow, though the movement sent jagged barbs of pain through his neck.

Rango stepped up. "H-here, lemme help ya, Jake."

Jake interrupted with a glare and an ominous hiss. "Listen Rango, I need yer help. Someone wants me dead and they almost succeeded." He rattled his tail-gun. "I'm askin' you... to find out who it is."

Rango was already curious as all heck about this and nodded his head in agreement. "Sure thing, Jake."

His mission completed, the rattler's fiery eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the ground, lying completely still. Rango yelped at this unexpected result. Beans, Wounded Bird, and Priscilla hurried over. Rango turned. "Little Sister, go fetch the Doc will ya? He should be in the saloon."

Priscilla's lips twotched in indignation. She wanted to get a better look at the fallen Reaper, but Beans hurriedly steered her away before the aye-aye could retort. Rango and his deputy were left alone.

"I cannot fathom this. Someone pulled a fast one over Rattlesnake Jake," Rango said incredulously. "It's amazin' he lived this long..."

Eventually, Priscilla and Beans dragged the only semi-drunk jackrabbit over. The one-eared Doc looked down at the rattler and stuck a limp paw up under Jake's jawline. He drew back with a mutter. "He's still 'live,"

Rango suddenly realized that there was an audience gathering. The whole town looked to be out and gawking. The chameleon cleared his throat and stood up. "Good folks, lend me yer ears. Jake here's in a mighty bad way; seems there's someone wants him dead," he was interrupted before he could continue.

"Well," Spoons spoke up. "Then I give whoever that is a tip o' my hat!" the mouse chuckled.

Ambrose, nearby, nodded in agreement. "True, I say. Good riddance!"

Rango frowned. "Now hold on, there. I know Jake's not a favorite of everyone here." He blinked. "And with good enough reason, acourse. But!" He looked around. "Since when has he advertised... his-" the words dind't come quick enough to him, it seemed. "Advertised his demonic visage recently?" Jake hadn't come around since the drought had ended about a week ago and everyone knew it. For a moment, there was silence.

Satisfied, Rango continued. "Point an' case bein', he's hurt real bad. So if some of you could give us a hand, we'll bring him into the Doc's office."

* * *

**Wonder how Doc feels 'bout that, Sheriff O_o**


	5. Chapter 5

Between Rango, Beans, Wounded Bird, Buford, Turley, Doc, and a few others, they managed to lift the heavy rattler up and carry his prone form into Doc's office. The jackrabbit had plenty of space in his front examination room so Jake was laid there. He still hadn't woken up. Rango had this fleeting apprehension that the snake might not wake back up. But he shook his head as he turned and nodded at the volunteers. "Y'all can go about yer business now." He was the only one stayed behind, besides the Doc. Beans lingered for a moment before giving Rango a 'be careful, y'hear' look and slipped out.

"Dag-gummit," Doc muttered as he set to work, red eyes half-lidded. "This is about the worst I've ever seen, 'specially on a rattler." He carefully washed his paws off and then slipped on a pair of gloves, and set to work removing the five knives. Even half-drunk, he was still able to operate. Grasping a pair of long tweezers, he skillfully inserted the pincers into the holes in the snake's body to remove the bullets. Rango suddenly got this very squeamish feeling. It wasn't everyday he had to watch a bullet being drawn out and there was something about the small red, leaden balls that... the chameleon's knees started to quake and he quickly turned to the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. there was after all, only so much he could take. Jake didn't wake up once during the whole procedure; through some unseeable power, his pulse continued steadily throughout.

Rango heard the shivering _clink _as each bullet clattered onto a tray at the Doc's feet. He had lost count it would seem off all the little metal balls, and he was just like to faint from all this when Doc cleared his throat.

"Finished," the rabbit stood up and thoughtfully clinked the bullets around. They numbered seventeen. "Seems Rattlesnake Jake's made someone mightily angry at him," he murmured.

Rango paled. "They... they all came from him?" He pointed stupidly, jaw dropped.

The Doc nodded, not seeming to notice Rango's reaction. "Either he's got a guardian angel, 'r the devil's workin' overtime." He glanced back at the huge, motionless snake.

Rango chuckled, humorlessly. "Ye-ah," he rubbed the back of his neck.

Just then, Rattlesnake Jake came to. Those fiery orbs that doubled as his eyes blinked slowly open. Rango noticed this and bent down to the snake's level, tipping his hat. "Hi there, Jake. Y'all just woke up. Doc took out all the bullets and-"

Jake suddenly lashed out, fangs bared. Rango was so started he tripped backwards and suddenly found the huge snake bearing down on him. The chameleon had no time to react or defend himself. There was only one other time he'd faced such terror - the first time he'd met Jake. Now, staring back at the unmistakable rage on rattler's face brought the jarring memory into full focus. Then, just as suddenly, recognition dawned and Jake, with a grimace and a groan, slowly settled back. "Sorry 'bout that. Instinct kicked in afore I saw you, Rango. No hard feelin's, right?"

Unsteadily, Rango got to his feet. "No, no hard feelin's, Jake." He figured it would be best not to press the subject. After all, Jake did apologize which was more than what the chameleon expected from him.

"My thanks, Doc," Jake flicked his tongue.

Doc, in his drunken stupor, hadn't really reacted all that suddenly to the danger, and it was over with so quick the rabbit was at a loss for words. He just nodded.

Jake's eyes shifted back to Rango. Now that they were no longer filled with murder, the orbs seemed duller than the chameleon remembered. Maybe justa trick of the light, or his imagination made them appear so hellish. "So, little man, I owe y'all an explanation, right?" He sounded as though he'd have liked to laugh, but there was no strength for laughing.

Rango nodded. "Well uh, yeah."

"Some group, the Outland Boys, they called the'selves, ambushed me. Turned into a sneak attack." He couldn't help but feel angry at himself, for all his proud strutting and boasting of earlier. And those jokers still managed to get him. "Should'a finished 'em off when I had the chance," he spate, bitterly.

"Outland Boys?" Doc interrupted. Jake's eyes flitted over to him.

"Yeah 'em know 'em?"

Doc nodded. "Used to roam through here a couple years ago with his gang, just stirrin' up trouble, startin' fires; that sort o' thing. Hadn't heard much about 'em till now."

Jake's lips twitched. "Well, the whole gang was there, all ready to get me outta the picture. Said some lizard'd hired 'em." Jake broke off in a fit of coughs. "_Hellfire!_" He cursed. "Pain's jus' 'bout over my limit!"

Doc clattered nearby. "I'ma comin'." He prepared some gauze pads and alcoholic ointment. Jake weakly turned his head towards Rango.

"Don't forget yer deal, Sheriff," the snake hissed. "You promised."

"I know." Inhindsight, this definitely did not seem like such a good idea. "Uhh, where d'ya want me to start?"

"Burrow," the snake rumbled. "Jus' follow the blood," the series of coughs that accompanied could have been laughter. A Rango turned to leave, he was stopped.

"Better not be lyin' to me, little man." Jake said in low, prophetic tones. "I'll make sure you regret it if y'are."

Rango knew better than to get this rattler mad at him or go to back on a deal. "Cross my heart and hope to-" he paused, not really wanting to say the next part. Jake snickered at the chameleon's hesitance. "Yer hopin' to die, then? Maybe you'd like to be the next soul I take?"

Even when Jake was kidding, he still sounded serious, at least Rango certainly hoped the rattler was only kidding...

* * *

**YAY! Jake be alive! :D**

**Oh, Rango, you crazy fool, you!**


	6. Chapter 6

Beans was waiting just outside and when Rango stepped through the door, she was like to pepper him with accusations mingled with questions. "You crazy, Sheriff? This is Rattlesnake Jake we're talkin' about and yer gonna _help_ him?"

Rango shrugged sheepishly after his initial surprise. He thought that Beans had left along with everyone else. "W-well, he's hurt and-"

"**And** what?" Beans demanded, firing off possibilities like she was firing off a round. "What if he changes his mind? S'pose he's just settin' us all up? What if-" she froze, as if the thought horrified her, "-he takes someone away behind our backs?"

Rango sighed as if weary, even though he'd considered those same prospects. "Look Beans, the least we can do is help him out. You saw how badly off he was."

"And since when did you decide t'open up our hearts an' home to gunslingin' outlaws like **him**?" Beans stopped where she was, planted her hands on her hips and gave Rango a hard stare.

The little chameleon laid his hands on Beans' shoulders to calm her down. "Look," he said gently. "No denyin' Jake can be..." he decided not to continue. "What I mean t'say is it's the right thing t'do. Think about it, Beans."

Beans frowned, not wanting to admit. Rango grinned gently. "What if it was one o' the townsfolks in his place?"

Beans snorted. Rango continued. "An' what if it was a case of some dark and dirty ragamuffin, out t'-" he was cut short as Beans pecked him lightly on the lips.

"Yer too soft, Sheriff..." she mumbled. "But I trust ya. Jus' be careful, y'hear?"

* * *

Jake tried his best not to show Doc how much it really hurt having some alcoholic solvent poured over the holes and then slathered with some greasy ointment. It felt slimy and disgusting on his hide. The rattler grunted and flexed his coils as Doc worked. The jackrabbit - either because he was too drunk to care or because he decided that Jake wasn't so scary up close - started to chat aloud.

"How goes things out yer way? You have any jobs recently?" Doc seemed to fail notice that he was tlaking to a gunslinger - a murderer - and that his lighthearted talk about 'jobs' was the difference between the life and death of soime unfortunate folk.

Jake growled in his throat. "You know somethin'?" His eyes flitted to Doc's worn face. "How 'bout you just quit the gab and patch me up? I don't like speakin' 'bout my personal life and it's none of yer business what I do."

Doc cleared his throat_ ahh, here came the sobriety_. "I see; no problem, then." He finished his work in silence. Jake went back to brooding. It hurt to talk - hellfire - it hurt to do anything!

Doc cleared his throat and Jake flashed him a hard glare. "I'm gonna ask ya, to lift up so's I can put a bandage on."

With a sigh of annoyance, Jake did so. He practically had to bite his own tongue off to hold back the lances of pain that shot throughout his body at this strenuous effort, but the Doc was fast, and within moments, a long linen bandage was snugly in place, wrapped around his coils. Jake speculated the dressing with something like disdain.

"How long do I need this on me?"

Doc shrugged. "'Bout a week. Also, t'wouldn't be a good idea t'move all that much. You've strained enough by slitherin' all the way here." He paused, avoiding Jake's intent stare. "I-I gotta ask you somethin' Jake, if you don't mind..."

Rattlesnake Jake rolled his eyes but he didn't tell the rabbit off. Doc took that as a sign to continue. "Why'd you come here, to Dirt of all places? T'was a mighty big risk comin' here while you were in this shape."

Jake lowered his head, silently. Doc tilted his head, waiting. Apparently, the moment of sobriety had worn off.

"Rango, that's why," Jake muttered to the floor.

Doc looked surprised. "Eh?"

"Came cos 'o Rango." Jake looked up and frowned. "Showed me as worthy o' some honor."

Doc nodded. "Hm," well now this was interesting. The famed gunslinger seeking help from the thespian Sheriff. Interesting, indeed.

Jake cringed as a fresh wave of pain crashed over his sense. "_Unngh..._" he groaned, immediately angry at himself for showing this weakness.

Dic inclined his head. "I can give ya an anesthetic, to make you go to sleep; you prob'ly won't feel much pain either."

That sounded like a great plan to Jake, especially the part about having no pain, but he glowered uncertainly. "I don't wanna be put out fer good, hear?"

Doc shook his head. "Ain't my intention. Give ya enough for a couple hours' good sleep." He fetched a rag and poured some clear liquid onto it. When he turned back to the snake, Jake rattled his tail gun feebly, warily, and his eyes still burned with suspicion. Doc, against his better judgement, gave the rag a little underhanded toss towards the prone snake. "Inhale this, please."

Jake poked his nose into the small white rag and inhaled. The effect was instantaneous.

* * *

**Thank you for the reviews so far, and also a little sidenote:**

**I am writing this fic, so it is my decision what character I want in. So I would really appreciate it if no-one sends me their character requests to put in my stories. Please, just go and write your own and stop bugging me.**

**Have a nice day :3**


	7. Chapter 7

Rango sat back in his office, thinking about the predicament he found himself in of a sudden. Well, not really of a sudden - it had happened relatively fast, true, but there was some breathing space to take things into place and organize them such and suchly. And the steps to be taken in a case like this could not be taken lightly, but hard and firm like an elephant! First things first, he had to find out who Jake's would-be-murderer was. Secondly, find out why, and thirdly, bring him to justice. Simple three-step solution, right?

The chameleon watched a passing fly with one eye and with the other he stared down at his shoes. Like a lightning strike, his long, sticky tongue snapped out and nabbed the fly in midair. _Bullseye!_ Rango chewed contentedly as he thought, digging around in his brain for any clues he might have missed. Inspiration for new leads lead him to Jake's burrow, the tried-and-true scene of the crime. He sat up then, his mind made up and was just about to stand when Doc came in - with a slight stumble, but otherwise upright and soherent.

Rango smiled wanly. "How is he, Doc?"

Doc shrugged. "Out fer now: jes' gave him an anesthetic so he'll be sleepin' a good part of the day."

"He let you do that?" Rango was surprised. The same rattler who fired off at the deputy, Wounded Bird, just for stepping on a creaky board? Granted, WB **had** tried to snipe him, but still!

Doc just shrugged again.

Rango sat back. "I feel sorry for him." He gestured for Doc to seat himself as well.

The rabbit paused as he took a seat on the other side of the desk. he rubbed his bloodshot eyes. "Eh, s'pose I do too. On the same subject," Doc suddenly leaned forward and motioned for Rango to come closer. "Thought that you'd be interested t'know this."

Rango scooted forward so far he almost fell out of his chair.

"Jake told me he came to Dirt cos o' you." The rabbit remarked.

Rango was so surprised that he did end up falling out of his chair. "Whaddya mean, because of me?"

Doc sat back and folded his arms over his ample stomach. "Said ya showed him honor. An' I'm willin' t'bet yer t'only one, too." He nodded slowly. "Yessir, don't hear that everyday."

Rango hastily re-seated himself back in the chair so as not to lose the moment of clarity. Once he was snug, Rango proceeded to ponder that remark. Rattlesnake Jake ...trusted him? Respected him? The chameleon wasn't sure how to react to this piece of news. The Grim Reaper of the West actually trusted that Rango would make sure he'd get the help he needed.

After a momentary pause - during which Doc regained some sense of sobriety - Rango spoke up. "I'm afraid I'm at a dead-end. I was thinkin' I should head out to his burrow, get a feels for things that way."

Doc nodded. "That's prob'ly a good place to start, Sheriff. 'Bout the only lead you'll have until my patient wakes up." He left then.

With a determined frown, Rango started to his feet, striking a resolute pose as he snatched up a length of rope off the desk and walked out of the office, over to the saloon.

"Good folk!" he called, "We've got a posse t'organize! Who's willing to come out to Rattlesnake Jake's burrow with me to catch some crooks?"

Silence met him - awkward silence. Was that a joke?

Rango frowned. "Look everyone, I've got a code t'honor, but I can't do it alone. I need some help, now who's with me?"

A few hesitant souls stood up to leave with him. Soon Turley, Spoons, Waffles, Mr. Fergus, Elbows, Gordy, and Papa Joad stood up. Rango whooped. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" He led the team out with a strut and a tip of his hat. The posse gathered up their runners and mounted them, ready for the quest.

As Rango climbed onto Excalibur, a hand caught his. He looked down to see Beans. The lady iguana hesitated and then swung herself up onto Rango's mount and kissed him right between the eyes. "You be careful, y'hear? I don't want you comin' back with one leg or no head." She kissed him again and then hopped off.

Rango turned a light shade of rose from his blush and waved. "You got it, Beans. C'mon, y'all, let's ride!"

* * *

**And NOW they ride! 7 chapters in, it's about time XDD**


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